


Practicality

by aetole



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Clothing Kink, M/M, Marathon Sex, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aetole/pseuds/aetole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many of Loki’s choices baffle him, but one way or another they lead Loki to what he wants, and this once Thor is not about to complain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practicality

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [fanart](http://hausofodin.tumblr.com/post/60583261561/seidrs-its-hella-stressful-being-australian) of one of Loki's [outrageous outfits from the comics](http://seidrs.tumblr.com/post/60515558976/inthebathory-seidrs-does-anyone-have-that). (Be warned: this story takes the panel completely out of context.)

Every tree for a mile shudders when the giant falls. 

Its body sends a mist of snow billowing into the air and for a moment the clearing glitters in a rain of fine powder. Loki struck true; the giant does not move again. The snow settles and one by one, birds begin to call.

Loki lands in a crouch, leaning on his sword. Exertion colors his cheeks a delicate pink and his breathing is heavy, though he controls it well. The fog of it curls into the chill air.

Thor swallows in sudden hunger. Though Loki makes much of his disdain for the frenzy of the battlefield, he often forgets himself when he is fresh from a fight; his hair loosens and tumbles about his shoulders and his eyes shine with green fire.

He rises and opens his mouth as if to speak when Thor approaches him, only to be pushed backward against an oak and into a deep and hungry kiss. 

His laugh under Thor’s lips turns to a gasp when Thor’s hands clasp his waist and pull him violently close. His absurd armor leaves his arms and thighs bare; his muscles are still heated from his efforts and Thor savors the warm press of him in the midst of the cold. Thor’s hand runs the length of his back, down smooth green leather to squeeze him.

“Yes,” Loki breathes.

It is easy to push Loki’s garment out of the way and run his palms along the suspenders on Loki’s thighs. 

“How can you wear this into a fight?” Thor asks him.

“Half of winning any battle is proper motivation,” Loki says, his fingers clawing at the laces of Thor’s breeches.

“Only half?” Thor chuckles. He sinks two fingers into silky warmth and Loki arches against him.

“Seven tenths,” he amends. His hands are desperate on Thor’s shoulders and Thor must kiss him again. Many of Loki’s choices baffle him, but one way or another they lead Loki to what he wants, and this once Thor is not about to complain.

“Fuck me,” Loki says, commanding.

He had no intention of doing anything else; he pulls one of Loki’s thighs up to press against his waist and plunges without hesitation into his willing flesh. 

The tree is old and firm but it shivers as Thor’s pounding rocks Loki against it. Loki, still charged with bloodlust, meets every thrust and devours his mouth with slick kisses. Thor has always been fond of this position—it reminds him of their coupling in hidden corridors as younger men, the audacity of lifting Loki’s tunic and sliding into him where anyone might happen upon them, the stone of the palace walls warming under their bodies, and always Loki’s low groans and sighs, musical in air filled with sunlight and dust motes. He is treated to those sighs now, as Loki’s breath rushes between them.

By the fourth climax Loki is limp against the tree, and so Thor brings Loki’s other leg about his waist and lifts him up. Loki clutches his shoulders and mouths at his neck while he pounds out one last orgasm into the grasp of warm thighs.

He slips out, gently lowering his brother back to the ground and setting him on his feet when he seems steady enough. His whole body hums pleasantly; he has not had Loki so thoroughly in weeks. 

Loki had been endearingly flushed before; now he looks utterly ruined: his color high, his eyes and lips bright, his hair mussed and sweaty even in the cold. Between gasps Loki manages a smile and sneers, “Done with me already?”

If he had been a moment ago, he is not now. He snatches Loki and throws him on his hands and knees and mounts him again immediately. 

He can grab the suspenders in this position, if he likes. He experiments moving his hands around to find the best grip and discovers that Loki’s wide belt offers good purchase; he uses it to drag Loki back and forth on his cock, now two hands here, now one on his belt and another on his hip. Loki mingles laughter with increasingly feral cries as he is driven to his peak.

Thor laughs with him; his body is taut and overflowing with pleasure. He fucks until Loki arches like a cat and comes. His hips pause for a moment, until Loki shoves back against him and growls, “ _More._ ”

Thor pulls out, turns him on his back and impales him again. Loki surges valiantly against his thrusts, burning out the last of the fire in his blood. His hair and the fur trim of his cloak are wet and bedraggled and his skin, soft and pale as the snow, is flushed dark where he is speared on Thor’s cock. His Loki, so strong, so powerful, all elegant limbs spread beneath him.

“I think I will have you again when we are home,” says Thor, still pounding him urgently.

“Mmnnnhh,” says Loki.

“And you must resume sparring with me, so that I can have you like this every day, battle-wrecked and cock-hungry.”

“ _Mmm_ —yes, you can throw me in the dirt and fuck me in front of your friends,” says Loki, and right now it sounds like a wonderful idea.

Thor grins and leans forward and thrusts with his whole body, as though he could somehow devour Loki this way. Loki’s hands scrabble against his sides until Thor takes them and pins them above his head. Soon Loki is tightening around him again, and he knows this will be the last, so he bends down to kiss him and slams his hips all the way into the bowl of Loki’s pelvis, so that when Loki comes he clamps around the entire length of Thor’s cock and pours his groan into Thor’s mouth as he spills across their chests.

Thor comes a few strokes later into Loki’s shivering body. The clearing is quiet again; Thor stays inside his brother until they have both softened and the smoke of their breaths comes less frantically. 

“Why _do_ you wear such things?” asks Thor, tugging at one of the straps. Loki bats his hand away.

“It’s easier to move,” says Loki.

“Is it?” 

“No.” 

“Oh.” A pause. “Can you wear it more often?”

“…Perhaps.”

“When we spar.”

“Certainly, Thor. When we spar.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is much appreciated here or on [tumblr](http://hausofodin.tumblr.com).


End file.
